


Captive Of The Daleks

by fiveainley_ohmy



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Damsel in Distress, Fluff, Gay Knights, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2015-02-19
Packaged: 2018-03-13 18:09:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3391220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiveainley_ohmy/pseuds/fiveainley_ohmy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Master rescues the Doctor from a tower.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Captive Of The Daleks

**Author's Note:**

> A transfer of one of my works from FanFiction.net. This is the original, vanilla version. I'm also posting the /uncut/ version on here too.

The Master Knight and Alchemist of the kingdom of Gallifrey, Sir Koschei, was in his dungeon lab, doing experiments, when there came a timid knock at his door.

“Enter,” Sir Koschei, or as he was more simply known, the Master, bade, and the messenger hesitantly came in. Many of the castle staff feared the ominous entity, and scooted to the other sides of the corridors when they saw him approach.

“Sir,” squeaked the messenger, Runcible. “I come bearing a request, from Queen Romana.”

“Yes, what is it?” asked the Master imperiously, but not harshly.

“Well, sir,” said Runcible, a little encouraged by the Master's civil but non-threatening tone, “it's the royal Medic, the Lord Doctor. He went on a expedition into the vast forest ten days ago and has not returned.”

The Master's grey eyes flared slightly, and turned coal black. “Has he?” he asked, a chilling note in his voice all of a sudden.

“Well,” Runcible gulped. “The Queen fears that he may have fallen in some danger. She desires that you go and fetch him back.”

At once, the Master began gathering various potions and magical odds and ends in a bag and donned his riding cloak. “Tell her Majesty that I shall go at once.”

“Yes sir, at once, sir!” rambled Runcible, rushing from the room, relieved to be rid of the man's company.

The Master went to the stable and demanded his horse. The great black steed was brought to him immediately and the Master took off for the dark forest.

The Master was a talented tracker. Even though the trail had been cold for over a week, the Master was able to sort out the Doctor's path. It was fairly easy, since they were both Time Lords, and their life forces left specific signatures. It was especially helpful that the Doctor's particular life signature was so intimately familiar to the Master.

After many weary hours of riding, the Master reached a knot in the wood where it was apparent that approximately eight days ago, there had been some kind of altercation. The Master demounted his horse and examined the scene.

He immediately recognized the distinct roller tracks of the robotic creatures that served the dictator of the neighboring kingdom, Skaro. Skaro and Gallifrey had an uneasy truce, and the various leaders of Gallifrey always seemed to be at odds with Skaro's tyrannical ruler, Davros.

Then, the Master found something bright and light green lying in the dirt, in the wake of the Daleks' path.

It was a stalk of celery.

The Master's gloved hands curled into tight fists. So, it was the Daleks that had kidnapped his beloved Doctor. He would soon see them pay for that, he swore on his honor as a favored knight. He would not rest until every filthy Dalek that dared to harm his lover was slaughtered with no mercy. But right now, there was a more pressing matter.

With the quiet rage of a protective lover, he remounted his horse, black cloak flapping like a great bat's wings, and took off in the direction of the tracks.

He soon found himself at a lonely tower lodged in a thick patch of the wood. The tracks and the Doctor's life signature led him here. The Doctor must be inside.

“Halt. Halt,” called a blaring, gratingly familiar metallic voice as a Dalek rolled into view. “Identity yourself,” it ordered.

“I am the Master,” he growled. “Overknight and chief Alchemist to the Queen of Gallifrey.”

“You are a Time Lord,” assessed the Dalek.

“How very astute of you to conclude,” said the Master. “I also happen to be the lover of your prisoner.”

Before the Dalek could utter the first “ _EXTERMINATE!_ ”, the Master whipped out his “magic wand”, which was really just a Tissue Compression Eliminator, his own design, and slayed the Dalek with absolutely no qualms. He waited, observing his surroundings, expecting more, but none came. Typical Dalek way of thinking, belief that one simple Dalek could guard a prisoner. Well, maybe in some cases.  
But not when the prisoner was the Doctor. The Daleks, bereft of all knowledge of emotional attachment, couldn't possibly know how the Master would move heaven and earth to retrieve him.

With no more threats, the Master blasted the wooden door (very clever of the Daleks, knowing the Doctor's sonic screwdriver couldn't unlock a wooden door) with his TCE and wasted no time hurrying inside.

At the top of a long and winding staircase, the Master found a door that no doubt led to the Doctor. He blasted that one out of the way as well and burst into the room.

On the bed, a man with fair hair and skin looked up. His light blue eyes widened with relief at the sight of his rescuer. “Koschei,” he whispered, joyous.

“Theta,” replied the Master, crossing the room and sweeping his lover into a fervent embrace. The Doctor, who had been locked up for days, whimpered with contentment as the Master kissed the living daylights out of him, letting him know that not only had he been missed, but that he was safe, and that the Master would not let anything happen to him.

“Quickly, my dear,” said the Master, breaking off the kiss. “There'll be more of them coming at any moment. We must go now.”

“Yes, of course, you're right,” said the Doctor, reaching under his bed and pulling out an improvised escape rope made out of what appeared to be his bed sheets and several articles of his clothing.

“I was almost done with it when I heard you coming,” said the Doctor. “I hid it, thinking that you were one of them. It's not quite long enough, though.”

“Use this,” said the Master, surrendering his traveling black cloak.

The Doctor, inspired, kissed his lover. He then quickly added the cloak to the makeshift rope, tied one end to the bed post nearest his window, and threw the rope out.

As the Doctor and the Master prepared to make their escape, a fleet of Daleks appeared in the doorway. “THE PRISONER IS ESCAPING! EXTERMINATE!” cried one.

The Doctor looked at his love and grinned cleverly. “Sorry,” he called to the Daleks. “Must dash!” And he and the Master descended the great rope.

Once on the ground, the Master quickly mounted his horse. The Doctor climbed on behind him, his arms firmly wrapped around the Master's torso. They took off, the Doctor proclaiming, “I'd hoped you'd rescue me.”

“Naturally, my dear,” said the Master, leaving the tower and the Daleks, still screaming “ _EXTERMINATE!_ ”, far behind them. “After all...a kingdom without you scarcely bears thinking about out.”

The Doctor kissed his cheek, and snuggled himself closer. His long, straw colored hair brushed against the Master's coarse brown beard hairs as he settled his chin on the other's man shoulder and said, “I love you.”


End file.
